Canzoni & Ripostes Part 2

Who are you that the whole world's song Is shaken out beneath your feet Leaving you comfortless, Who, that, as wheat Is garnered, gather in The blades of man's sin And bear that sheaf?

Lady of wrong and grief, Blameless!

II

All souls beneath the gloom That pa.s.s with little flames, All these till time be run Pa.s.s one by one As Christs to save, and die; What wrong one sowed, Behold, another reaps!

Where lips awake our joy The sad heart sleeps Within.

No man doth bear his sin, But many sins Are gathered as a cloud about man's way.

TO GUIDO CAVALCANTI

Dante and I are come to learn of thee, Ser Guido of Florence, master of us all, Love, who hath set his hand upon us three, Bidding us twain upon thy glory call.

Harsh light hath rent from us the golden pall Of that frail sleep, _His_ first light seigniory, And we are come through all the modes that fall Unto their lot who meet him constantly.

Wherefore, by right, in this Lord's name we greet thee, Seeing we labour at his labour daily.

Thou, who dost know what way swift words are crossed O thou, who hast sung till none at song defeat thee, Grant! by thy might and hers of San Michele, Thy risen voice send flames this pentecost.

SONNET IN TENZONE

LA MENTE

"O Thou mocked heart that cowerest by the door And durst not honour hope with welcoming, How shall one bid thee for her honour sing, When song would but show forth thy sorrow's store?

What things are gold and ivory unto thee?

Go forth, thou pauper fool! Are these for naught?

Is heaven in lotus leaves? What hast thou wrought, Or brought, or sought, wherewith to pay the fee?"

IL CUORE

"If naught I give, naught do I take return.

'_Ronsard me celebroit!_' behold I give The age-old, age-old fare to fairer fair And I fare forth into more bitter air; Though mocked I go, yet shall her beauty live Till rimes unrime and Truth shall truth unlearn."

SONNET: CHI e QUESTA?

Who is she coming, that the roses bend Their shameless heads to do her pa.s.sing honour?

Who is she coming with a light upon her Not born of suns that with the day's end end?

Say is it Love who hath chosen the n.o.bler part?

Say is it Love, that was divinity, Who hath left his G.o.dhead that his home might be The shameless rose of her unclouded heart?

If this be Love, where hath he won such grace?

If this be Love, how is the evil wrought, That all men write against his darkened name?

If this be Love, if this ...

O mind give place!

What holy mystery e'er was noosed in thought?

Own that thou scan'st her not, nor count it shame!

BALLATA, FRAGMENT

II

Full well thou knowest, song, what grace I mean, E'en as thou know'st the sunlight I have lost.

Thou knowest the way of it and know'st the sheen About her brows where the rays are bound and crossed, E'en as thou knowest joy and know'st joy's bitter cost.

Thou know'st her grace in moving, Thou dost her skill in loving, Thou know'st what truth she proveth, Thou knowest the heart she moveth, O song where grief a.s.soneth!

CANZON: THE VISION

I

When first I saw thee 'neath the silver mist, Ruling thy bark of painted sandal-wood, Did any know thee? By the golden sails That clasped the ribbands of that azure sea, Did any know thee save my heart alone?

O ivory woman with thy bands of gold, Answer the song my luth and I have brought thee!

II

Dream over golden dream that secret cist, Thy heart, O heart of me, doth hold, and mood On mood of silver, when the day's light fails, Say who hath touched the secret heart of thee, Or who hath known what my heart hath not known O slender pilot whom the mists enfold, Answer the song my luth and I have wrought thee!

III

When new love plucks the falcon from his wrist, And cuts the gyve and casts the scarlet hood, Where is the heron heart whom flight avails?

O quick to prize me Love, how suddenly From out the tumult truth has ta'en his own, And in this vision is our past unrolled.

Lo! With a hawk of light thy love hath caught me.

IV

And I shall get no peace from eucharist, Nor doling out strange prayers before the rood, To match the peace that thine hands' touch entails; Nor doth G.o.d's light match light shed over me When thy caught sunlight is about me thrown, Oh, for the very ruth thine eyes have told, Answer the rune this love of thee hath taught me.

V

After an age of longing had we missed Our meeting and the dream, what were the good Of weaving cloth of words? Were jewelled tales An opiate meet to quell the malady Of life unlived? In untried monotone Were not the earth as vain, and dry, and old, For thee, O Perfect Light, had I not sought thee?

VI

Calais, in song where word and tone keep tryst Behold my heart, and hear mine hardihood!

Calais, the wind is come and heaven pales And trembles for the love of day to be.

Calais, the words break and the dawn is shown.

Ah, but the stars set when thou wast first bold, Turn! lest they say a lesser light distraught thee.